


Series 4 Setlock Inspired Johnlock: The Dinner

by KimberlyAlexis



Series: Series 4 Setlock Inspired Johnlock [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Infidelity, M/M, Post-Episode: The Abominable Bride, Post-Episode: s03e03 His Last Vow, Season/Series 04, Setlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 06:17:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6504145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KimberlyAlexis/pseuds/KimberlyAlexis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All the setlock photos/info are bumming me out so when we get new photos/info then I'm going to use them to write a series of fanfics about John and Sherlock based off them. </p><p>First up is that awkward dinner photo between John and Mary.</p><p>You can see the photo and setlock tweet here:<br/>http://watsonsdick.tumblr.com/post/142410354807/fuckyeahshockblanket-martin-freeman-marfrman</p>
            </blockquote>





	Series 4 Setlock Inspired Johnlock: The Dinner

John's eyes are drawn to the candle sat atop their table. The flame flickers each time the restaurant's door opens to invite yet another patron inside. Mary's eyes remain fixed on John's. Unwavering. He hates it, hates this. Nervous tension is getting the best of him tonight and he isn’t even sure there’s a point to all this. 

 

It's been three days since he heard from Sherlock. And even then it was Mary who received the text to come to this restaurant for a possible surveillance operation.

 

"John, please," Mary says.

 

John tries to give a smile, but then his eyes shift towards the door as it opens again. He isn’t sure what he’s expecting right now. It’s highly unlikely who they’re looking for will come in the restaurant or ,given who they’re dealing with, maybe they will. Hell.

 

"Sorry, sorry," John says. 

 

He isn’t okay with this and he knows he’s giving away the game. Mary reaches out to settle his hand which is clenching and unclenching. John flinches away. He supposes that isn't good. They're supposed to be a happy couple. Still he just doesn't want her touch right now.

 

"It's a tell, darling." She gives him a sad smile to punctuate her statement. If it's actually a look of hurt or just part of the game, he can’t tell. She doesn't show her hand to anyone. Of course she wouldn't. He turns away annoyed. "Okay. We should talk," she says.

 

He huffs out a laugh at that, turns back to look at her. He shakes his head at the ludicrousness of that statement. Sure. They should  _ talk. _ There’s so much to talk about. How a week ago she was pregnant and now she's suddenly not anymore because that was all a lie. Down to having fake test results. Not a baby. A lie. A conversation could also be had about how she worked for Moriarty and that's why she just so happened to work at his clinic, why she pursued him. And Sherlock must have known. But why didn't he say?

 

On their stag night, which seems like years ago, John told him how they met.

 

_ "She asked me out actually." _

 

_ "Really? That's interesting." Sherlock said. He was wearing a lop-sided grin and his eyes were full of a quiet calm that John had never seen before. And though he knew in any normal circumstance Sherlock wouldn't be interested in knowing such a boring story of how a couple met, John decided to continue. _

 

_ "Yeah, twice. I mean. I wasn't ready yet. I was still stuck on y-I was just not dating. But she pushed me and yeah I was better for it." _

 

_ "I'm glad she makes you happy." _

 

So, yeah, even though they were drunk Sherlock knew. And he never said. Never said she might be worth looking into. Never said to look at the flash drive. Never said --

 

"John?"

 

"Yes?" John says. He knows how it sounds. Terse, annoyed, pissed off. He doesn't care anymore.

 

"Look I know I'm the last person you want to be here with," Mary says.

 

John keeps his mouth shut at the obviousness of the statement. She got it in one.

 

"But this is the plan--Sherlock's plan," she adds at the end with more emphasis.

 

"I know."

 

"So we sit here and pretend to be a couple , wait for whomever is trying to contact me to complete the job, and if we are lucky Sherlock will call us and that will be that."

 

"Fine," John says. His tone doesn't change much, but he does add a tight smile to show he's trying.

 

At that moment their server appears and pours them both a refill of water. When a plate clashes to the floor at the opposite table, the server somehow gets distracted and pours water all over John.

 

Jumping back John avoids the full pour of the pitcher, but he is definitely in the need of the loo.

 

"Oh, sir," the server says. "I am so sorry. A thousand pardons. Sir, let me help you to the gentleman's."

 

"Please," John says. He's about to stride away when Mary reaches out a hand.

 

"Come back soon, love," she says.

 

"Counting the seconds," John says with the most sincerity he can muster.

 

He turns to follow the server who has his hand held out pointing the way. The server leads him down a narrow hall past the artwork for sale that no one seems to buy and past restaurant reviews that no one cares to read. John spies a sign for the gents but the server continues walking, pointing  towards the end of the hall.

 

"Um," John says. "Isn't this it, mate?"

 

"You're needed in the office, Doctor Watson," he says then stops at the end of the passage. A door opens at that moment and the server strides past John and walks away. As he leaves John turns around takes stock. Sherlock is right, people do ignore waiters. On first glance John missed all that he sees now. The man holds himself well.  His precision walk is steady.  The haircut, manner of dress all say military. He's definitely a plant. But whose?

 

John reaches for his phone to text Sherlock but somehow there's no service on his cell and he really starts to worry. It's possible with these old restaurants. Some still have leaded roof materials that cause your cell to lose service, but the timing is odd. If someone is using a cell phone dampener to block him contacting him then whoever is behind that door is foe not friend.

 

John reaches under his jacket for the gun tucked away in the holster he'd been fitted with just that morning. With a snap he unhooks the clasp over the gun, but he leaves the revolve in place as he turns to enter the room.  
  


 

***

****

*****

The room is dark save one small lamp in the corner. Stood next to it peering down at his phone is Sherlock Holmes.  Not wearing his standard coat, rather a crisp suit, his hair trimmed. 

 

He looked completely different from the last time John saw him days ago. And it was a whole world of change from how he looked getting off that plane. And thank God for that. John hadn't talked about it since then. Honestly he didn't even want to think about it. How could Sherlock do that to his body? Was it all really for a case? Why was he reading John's blog?

 

Things didn't add up and John had no idea how to even begin to do the math.

 

"John, close the door," Sherlock says. His eyes don't leave his phone’s screen, but of course he knew it was John.

 

"You could have told me it was you earlier, Sherlock. I had my gun at the ready. I could have shot you."

 

"Not with the gun still in your holster." She finally looks up at John and smiles.

 

John can't help but smile right back. The bastard was right, of course. He huffs out a laugh and closes the door.

 

Sherlock returns to looking at his phone and John walks around the office for lack of anything to do.

 

"I'm having the waiter explain to Mary that the water actually got on you more than you think so you're still trying to dry out. That should buy us some time."

 

"For what?" John asks. His brow furrowing as his eyes continue to adjust to the darkness.

 

"For this," Sherlock says. He pockets his phone quickly and in one firm go he pushes John against the door and kisses him soundly. Hands moving down John's body, caressing, searching, and finally finding a home on John's hips which John thrusts forward towards Sherlock just as Sherlock also moves forward to find friction on the leg John has expertly slotted between Sherlock's legs.

 

Sherlock's kisses are questing down John's neck and John lets out a soft "oh." Until Sherlock finds the spot just ...right... there and John's sounds turn into an "mmm."

 

They began this a week ago and yet somehow even now it still feels impossible. That this is happening between, after, during everything, John can't quite believe it.

 

"God, Sherlock," John says as he travels his hands  around to cup Sherlock's arse,  holding his body close,tight as they both thrust forward.

 

"John." is Sherlock's only answer. And it's a barely there sound, huffed out before a moan overtakes him.

 

"Jesus-I, I can't believe," John starts to say, but he becomes distracted as Sherlock moves from caressing John's neck to slotting his mouth over John's. John moans into the kiss. God. He would have Sherlock right here, right now. He would take him in this cramped space and bring him off if he could, but...

 

John pulls back. Sherlock chases after one more kiss and John gives it and another and another until Sherlock stops it this time. Pulling back and leaning their foreheads together. Both taking deep breaths to calm down.

 

"Alright?" John asks. He's not alright himself, but he will be if he just keeps thinking about anything but the body pressed against him.

 

"Yes," Sherlock answers. “Yes.” He takes a step back, turns away. "That was--it was--"

 

"I think the word you're looking for is incredibly sexy."

 

Sherlock turns back, grins. "Well yes that, but also I shouldn't have come. I need to be looking for whomever is pulling the strings."

 

"Well. Who is on surveillance right now then?"

 

"Just Mycroft's people."

 

"So you mean MI-6, some of the most clever people in the land? And before you get out of sorts you know I think you're the most clever, but surely they can keep a look out for a few moments."

 

"I suppose."

 

"Okay then," John says. He smiles and reaches out a hand to pull Sherlock back to him. He misses his body against his already.

 

Sherlock melts into John's touch. He kisses him again. They're gentle nips as compared to before, but they're nonetheless wonderful, spectacular.

 

"When this is over," John starts to say, but Sherlock shushes him with a kiss. John isn't sure why. Will he not want this when it's over? Did Sherlock not mean the things he said? Does he not think they’ll both be together when it’s all over?

 

A knock at the door startles them and they break apart.

 

"You're needed Doctor Watson. The misses is looking for you."

 

“Shit,” John says. The back of his head falls back against the door with a thud.  He doesn’t want to go, but the game, as Sherlock will remind him, is on..

 

"Go, John,” Sherlock says with a final kiss.  “I'll contact you."

 

John wants to say something like he loves him and he wants him to be safe, but he isn't sure either would be welcome. Love is not Sherlock's area and there is no way any of them will be safe right now. Not when there are ghosts and puppet masters and assassins all in  play right now. So instead John just looks at Sherlock, gives him a tight smile and leaves.

 

This game they're playing. Only him, Sherlock, and Mycroft know the plan. And the charade is far from over.

 

John walks slowly until he arrives back, reaches over gives a squeeze to Mary’s shoulder. He takes his seat across from her and gives her a smile.

 

"All better?" She says.

 

He isn't sure where or when this will end, but if it means he and Sherlock are okay at the end then he'll play his part.

 

John reaches for his wine glass and takes a drink.

 

"Yes," John says. "Much."

  
  



End file.
